Fall

raking the brown together
pulling the orange into a perfect hump
the occasional red
scraping together the bits and pieces
the paint box of peeled split crayons
discarded on the lawn
trying to assemble something
I can draw together
and scoop up with two hands
to clutch onto
to sink my nose into
to breath
if only for a little while
before it dwindles through my fingertips
and life tosses its perfect mound
to the air
tilts back its mouth
and sighs heavily
into the wind.